


Missing Parts

by LilyK



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: Jim is hurt and while recovering he feels he has missing parts.





	Missing Parts

"So you're saying that you dispute the Sentinel/Guide bond that Harrison wrote about in his journal?" Blair asked seriously, casting a thoughtful look at his partner. 

Jim chuckled. "You told me yourself that Harrison's writings aren't all that reliable. That's why Burton didn't include his observations in his own book." 

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, Chief. This..." Jim's hand waved haphazardly through the air, "...bond is all a product of romantic movies and Hollywood. Love stories and soap operas." 

"Geez, Jim. You're downright cynical. Don't you want to be linked to another person body and soul, for all eternity?" Blair asked. "I mean, it's not just romance! It's important to the physical and mental well-being of the pair. It makes them feel safe and secure in private and in public. You can't deny that you feel -- safer with me beside you." 

Jim caught the hint of longing in his friend's voice. He glances sideways at Blair, who looked so excited about the prospect of some sort of mystical bond between Sentinel and Guide. Jim smiled, but said, "Listen, Sandburg. You're a steady partner. And I am safer with you. I know you keep me grounded; keep my senses in top shape." 

"But Jim, even you admit that our animal spirits merged when you brought me back. That has to count for something! Our bond is special!" 

"I'm not disputing that. And I'm not disputing that we have a special friendship, but being linked, bonded, whatever you want to call it, to a beautiful redhead might be okay. Might, I say, but I don't think you're my idea of an ideal soul mate." 

"Well, thanks a lot, Ellison," Blair said sadly. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed. "It's impor-"

The crackling of the police band radio stopped Blair's words. 

"All units. A multi-car accident at the intersection of Monroe and Fourteenth. All available personnel respond. Multiple injuries. Fire and EMS responding." 

Jim grabbed the radio and said, "David 152 responding." 

"Roger, David 152." 

Jim flipped down the visor, and hit the two toggle switches on the truck's dash to activate the emergency lights and siren. "We'll have to save this in-depth discussion for later, Chief. Duty calls." 

Blair shrugged. "Sure. Whatever, man." 

Jim quickly patted Blair's shoulder, but the soft sigh that the Sentinel heard escape his partner's lips told Jim that this discussion, while shelved for now, was far from over, if his Guide had anything to say about it. 

Visor lights casting red and blue sparkles against the clean glass, Jim Ellison slid his white and blue truck into the middle of the intersection. He quickly assessed the situation before the truck's engine died. 

While throwing the transmission into park, Jim said shortly, "Help the kids." 

Silently, with his face a mask of concern, Blair nodded and pushed his door open. 

Jim jumped up from his seat, forcing himself not to watch his partner's retreating back. He knew instinctively that Blair would do everything he could to help the victims of the accident, even to the point where he ignored his own safety. For a brief moment, he felt that thing. That tiny moment of total and utter dread he always felt when he and Blair were going into danger. For one brief second, his world crashed; his heart broke; his soul screamed, at the thought of his Guide being hurt or worse, at the thought of losing his Guide. Shaking off the dread, Jim bit his lip and ran. 

\---------------------------------------------- 

The intersection was in chaos. The school bus had rolled to its side, pushed into its present position by the tractor-trailer that had t-boned it. Two other cars were smashed against the bus's undercarriage, and another car was wedged under the semi's trailer. Gasoline, oil and antifreeze spurted or dripped from several vehicles, and flames were licking at the bus and one of the cars. 

Hearing sirens in the distance, and knowing that there wouldn't be time to wait for the firefighters to douse the flames and save all of the victims, Jim raced into action; his destination was the compact car partly hidden under the trailer. Small flames licked at the undercarriage of the car and Jim could clearly see the occupant, a very large man, struggling to push the door open. 

Jim covered another few feet when there was a muffled pop and a small explosion. The fire grew, catching the paint and the flames raced up the sides of the wedged vehicle. The occupant, too large to fit out the broken window, started screaming and crying, futilely pushing on the wedged door. 

Ignoring the fire, Jim wrapped one hand on the car door's frame and another on the handle, and pulled. 

"Push!" he shouted at the frantic man. "Push, damn you!" 

With tears streaming down his face, the man managed to nod and began to push while Jim pulled. He grimaced at the heat under his hands, but adrenalin overrode his pain. With a final tug, the door gave, spilling Jim back onto the pavement. The man scrambled out and fell on top of Jim. Wasting precious moments to push the man aside, Jim grabbed his arm, yanking him to his feet and with an arm wrapped around the man's waist, they lurched away from the vehicle together. 

The explosion was deafening, throwing Jim and the man he'd saved face down on the pavement. Pieces of burning metal, plastic and cloth rained down on them. Sharp prickles of pain lanced through their clothing and pierced their skin. Jim ignored the man's renewed screams of pain, and his own pain, scrambled to his feet and grabbed the heavy victim's wrists, dragging him to safety. 

Jim slowly turned to survey the scene. With his chest heaving, he watched dazedly as the fire trucks raced into the intersection, followed by police cruisers and ambulances. Somebody in a white coat approached him. Jim blinked, the smoke burning his eyes. Tears coursed freely down his face from the smoky cloud that settled around him. 

"Sir? Sir? Are you hurt?" 

Jim shrugged, his mind a bit frazzled from the rescue and the chaos around the scene. "I... Take care of..." He waved a hand airnlessly toward the sobbing man at his feet as he lay crumpled on the pavement. 

"We'll take care of both of you. Just tell me where you're hurt." 

"I'm not..." Jim shook his head and blinked. "I'm okay..." 

"Sir, please sit down." The EMT reached out to help Jim, but he flinched and took a step backward. 

"Not... hurt," Jim mumbled, wondering why he felt so strange. 

"Sir, you're bleeding." 

Jim shook his head again, the paramedic's words sounding muffled. "What?" 

"You're in shock. You need to let me look at you." 

Jim pulled his gaze away from the EMT to glance at the injured man he had saved. He saw another white-coated man leaning down over the man. "He's hurt," he said quietly. 

"Yes, sir. We know. Please let me look at you." 

Jim backed up another step. "Blair!" he whispered hoarsely, his tone almost begging. 

"What? Is that somebody in the accident? Is somebody else trapped in one of the vehicles? Please, you have to sit down." 

"Jim!" Blair suddenly appeared at Jim's side. "Oh, God, Jim." At the EMT's questioning look, Blair touched Jim's arm possessively. "He's my partner. We're police officers responding to the distress call." 

"Blair?" Jim said softly, his senses starting to waffle. His hearing spiked upward while his vision greyed out suddenly, only to snap back to normal quickly. 

"Shit. Shit. Come on, man. Sit down," Blair said quietly, slipping an arm around Jim's waist. "You're-- Oh, God. Jim, your hands!" 

Looking down at his own hands, Jim's eyes focused on the damaged skin. His vision tunneled, his brain froze, and within seconds, he felt the familiar feeling of a zone. Before he could do anything else, he was gone. 

\-------------------------------

When Jim's knees buckled, Blair wrapped his arms around his falling partner. He didn't need to glance into Jim's eyes to know that his partner was zoning. Moving quickly, he and the paramedic caught Jim before he hit the pavement and gently laid him on the gurney that sat a few feet away. Blair carefully closed Jim's widely opened eyes and while the paramedic started his preliminary examination, he made his own quick perusal of his partner. 

Blisters covered Jim's palms and fingers. While the front of Jim's body was relatively clean, Blair could see spots of blood spreading out onto the clean sheet from underneath Jim's head. Carefully turning his head to the side, Blair saw the tiny cuts covering the exposed skin on the back of his neck and he could see blood seeping from his hair. A quick glance at his nearest leg showed more blood dotting the sheet. Craning his head sideways, Blair then realized that the side of Jim's body closest to him had more blood spots on the gray shirt. That was when he realized that shrapnel from the explosion had peppered the back of Jim's body with dozens of pieces of every size. 

"His back... His arms..." Blair said. "He's hurt." 

"Yes, sir." The EMT dug into his kit. "Looks like he was hit with flying debris from the explosion. But right now, we need to get him stabilized and irrigate his hands." 

"What can I do?" Blair asked, meeting the man's eyes. 

"You're fine. Let me do my job, and you just stay with your friend." 

Blair nodded, swallowing hard. He moved even closer to his side of the gurney, placed one hand on Jim's arm and the other on his chest right over his heart. He leaned down. Whispering in Jim's ear, he said, "Jim. I'm right here." Blair closed his eyes and breathed in before huffing out a shaky breath. Opening his eyes, he glanced quickly at the EMT, who was busy caring for Jim's hands, before he said, "Just relax, Jim. I know you can hear me, and I know you'd come back if I called you, but..." Blair wiped his other hand down his face. "Just stay where you are for now. You can wake up later after... " Blair cleared his throat. "...after the docs take care of you and get you some pain meds. Okay, Jim?" Again closing his eyes, Blair waited patiently until he would swear he felt a tiny sense of -- agreement and relief. At least that's what he thought he felt. With a watery smile, he added, "Love you," before he removed the hand from Jim's chest. 

"Sir?" 

Blair refocused on the EMT, who had apparently been trying to get his attention. "What?"

"We'll be ready to transport in a minute or two. Give me his personal info, please." 

"Oh, yeah, sure," Blair glanced at the paramedic's name tag,"...Joe. Thanks." 

"Sure thing," Joe said with a comforting smile. 

"James Ellison. DOB..." Blair rattled off Jim's statistics automatically until Joe rose and touched Blair's arm. 

"You riding in the ambulance with your partner?" Joe asked, cocking his head toward the gurney on which Jim lay that was being whisked toward the nearby vehicle by another EMT. 

Blair rose slowly, wiping his hands on his dirty jeans. "Sorry," he whispered. "I'm kind of..." He rubbed his head with a shaky hand. 

"Are you okay?" Joe asked, moving closer, his eyes scanning Blair's face before quickly moving down his body. 

"Yeah. I have a bit of a headache, but... I'm not hurt. I feel... okay." Watching as the EMTs loaded Jim into the ambulance, he turned to Joe. "You'll remember about his allergies. He's allergic to all kinds of things. Food. Some plants. Drugs, too." 

"I've written it all down, sir. About Dr. Roberts, also. He'll be contacted in route." 

"Right. He's Jim's doctor. Good. Thanks." 

"Sir, we have to go. Are you riding in the ambulance?" 

Blair shivered, his mind finally clearing of the last vestiges of whatever was clouding his brain. Glancing around, his eyes landed on the blue and white Ford sitting in the middle of the intersection. "I'd better move Jim's truck from the middle of the road so it's not in the way of the emergency vehicles and traffic. I'll be right behind you. Go!" he shouted, running toward the truck. As he climbed in, he watched the ambulance taking off. He focused his mind on his Sentinel, and was rewarded with a brief image of Jim lying on the gurney. He was still deeply under and Blair knew without a doubt that he was feeling no pain. He swore he could see Joe was starting an IV while the other paramedic was rechecking Jim's respiration and pulse. Briefly he wondered why he could even see into the back of the ambulance that was currently racing away, but now was not the time to think about strange things. Cranking the engine, Blair raced after the departing ambulance. 

\-------------------------------------

Jim languished in the dark, floaty place. He felt nothing. His body didn't exist. His mind was fairly blank. He was aware, but just enough to know he -- was. There was no concept of time or place, and he coasted along. Somewhere, somehow he knew he had the ability to change his situation but he couldn't summon the interest in doing so. At least not until something, someone, somehow began to bug the hell out of him. Instead of the nothingness he was experiencing, he oh so gradually became "aware". Something was there. Dragging him back to somewhere. He wished he had the ability, the strength, to protest, but whatever it was, whomever it was, demanded his compliance. And he was unable, even unwilling, to resist. The draw was compulsive, so he responded, albeit slowly. 

"...im? For heaven's sake, man. It's about time!" 

Jim blinked slowly, his entire body one huge throb. Pain lashed his every nerve. His mouth opened but no sound emerged. He tried to lick his lips, but nothing happened. The muscle refused to move. He blinked again, a stray tear leaking out from the corner of his eye.

"Shhh," the voice said comfortingly, lovingly. "It's okay. I was wondering what kind of effect the drugs would have on you. Can't talk? Geez, Blair, if he could have spoken, he would have! Why not ask questions he can't answer? Okay, okay..." 

Jim blinked again. The ceiling slowly focused, yellow tiles with tiny holes dotting the surface. Wishing he could turn his head toward the voice, Jim struggled. 

"Hey! Jim, relax! You're sending your blood pressure through the roof! Can you feel me touching you? Wait. Wait. Blink once for yes. Do you understand?" 

Jim blinked slowly. He understood the voice, thank God. He recognized the voice, his partner, close by, watching over him, so he wasn't brain damaged. Blair being near brought some comfort and that feeling allowed him to think for a moment. At least he didn't feel brain damaged. But when he tried to move, his body definitely felt damaged. Unable to move his fingers, his toes, or his head, he started to panic. 

"Jim! Are you in pain? What's wrong? Jim!" 

When he couldn't take in a breath, his panic quickly escalated. That's when he knew. He was paralyzed! From his head to this toes. He remembered the explosion. He remembered the flying shrapnel cutting into his back. Spinal injury! His chest failed to respond to his brain's frantic command to breath. He heard bells, whistles, shrill squeaks, and the sounds spiked into his head. His eyes teared in pain at the deafening sounds before everything went blank. 

\--------------------------------

Blair was hurriedly escorted from the ICU room where his partner lay. Every piece of equipment in the room sounded its alarm, and a wave of doctors and nurses descended when the Code Blue was called. Blair pressed his face against the glass and watched between the moving bodies, his hands likewise pressed against the firm, cool surface. To keep the tears from falling, he bit his tongue so hard that the blood ran down his throat, making his cough. Hand pressed over his mouth, he watched until twenty minutes later, the medical personnel left the room, one by one, until only Dr. Roberts was left. He raised a hand and waved toward Blair, beckoning him in. 

Blair tripped in his rush to Jim's side. He banged his shoulder against the door frame and sank to his knee. Pulling himself up, Dr. Roberts put out a hand. 

"Calm down, Blair. He's stabilized." 

"Thank God," Blair whispered. "Thank you." He followed the doctor to Jim's side. His eyes raked over his partner's still form. The ventilator made a whooshing sound as it pumped life-giving air into Jim's body. The tape on his eyes kept his lids closed to prevent dryness, and the tubes running from under the sheets snaked every which way. 

"Why didn't he need a ventilator before? He was breathing on his own." 

"He went into a full respiratory episode. Allergic reaction to the pain med." Roberts shook his head. "Jim is the most unusual patient I've ever had, Blair. With him, anything can set off his allergies. And from the read outs, I think the pain medication we were trying had actually escalated his discomfort." Dr. Roberts paused while he scanned Jim's chart. "He's resting comfortably now." 

"But is he okay?" Blair demanded. 

"I'm flushing the original medication from his system. We'll give it some time to clear out, and then I'm going to give him a small cocktail of some milder drugs. I thought that quarter dose I tried would work well with his sensitive senses, but it's clear that Jim didn't take to it at all." 

"And his breathing?" 

"The drug actually paralyzed him. A most unusual side effect. One I've never seen before. When he woke, he couldn't move. Even his respiratory functions were repressed, but he was obviously aware of his surroundings. I understand how upset he must have been, and that's why his vitals went through the roof." Roberts gave Jim a careful glance before he added, "The ventilator will give him a chance to rest his body, and once the drug is out of his system and the new one administered, we'll wake him up." 

"How long?" 

"With Jim, it's hard to say. Twelve hours, more or less. But don't get a bit antsy if it stretches to even twenty-four. Got it?" He added with a pat to Blair's arm. 

"Okay," Blair said with relief. "Twelve hours I can do. Even twenty-four now that I know he's going to be all right." 

Roberts smiled. "Go and have a cup of coffee." 

Blair nodded. "I don't know what I'd do if he..." He turned away, embarrassed at the tears that quickly gathered. 

Jeff said sympathetically, "You're tired. You need some food and some sleep wouldn't hurt, either." 

Nodding, Blair gave the doctor a watery smile. "You've saved Jim's life more times than I can count. I'm glad you're his doctor." 

"Thanks." Roberts shrugged, smiling. "It's not easy treating the only living Sentinel in modern history. Wish he'd have come with a better set of instructions. I'm sorry it's hit or miss sometimes..." 

"Hey! No problem. I understand. Believe me. Jim's senses are fairly easy to control when he's in top shape, but when he's injured or sick, it's any body's guess. You know that an emotional upheavel sends them whacky more often than not. There aren't many doctors who would be willing to even try and help him." Blair gave Jeff a small smile. "And you help him although you know you can't let anybody know about his senses, and how much you are part of keeping him in good physical health. Hell, Doc, you can't even write a good paper about the Sentinel thing." Blair shuffled his feet, shoving his hands into his pocket. "It means a lot to me, and to Jim. Everything you do for us. In case things get hectic around here, and I don't get a chance to say this -- thank you. From me and from Jim." 

Jeff smiled. "You're very welcome. I like Jim. I like you. And I'll do anything I can to help. I don't need to publish a paper to know this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for any physician. Even if it's just us knowing most of the details, it's still been a learning experience for me." After another quick glance at his patient, the doctor added, "He's going to be okay. Go and take a few hours to regroup. You need a shower. Doctor's orders." 

"Okay. I think I will. Let me say goodbye to him." 

Roberts patted Blair's shoulder. "You know he'll need you when he's released, so take care of yourself." 

"I will." Blair blinked back another rush of tears, happy that the doctor had left and hadn't seen yet another moment of emotion, but a bit embarrassed at the emotional ride he was currently on. "Get a grip," he admonished himself and went to speak to his partner. 

\-----------------------------------

"No." Jim growled the word, practically spat it out, making Blair's face pale even more. 

"Jim, please!" 

Rather than even discuss it further, Jim turned his face away. 

Blair stood, lost and unhappy. "Jim, why are you doing this?" 

"I'll call when I'm ready to come home." 

Blair moved closer and put a hand on Jim's arm. "I'm sorry. I thought if you knew, it would make it easier for you to let me do this! Damn it anyway! I shouldn't have told you. I didn't realize it would make you so unhappy!" Without another word, Blair turned and fled from the room. 

Jim lay very still, his jaw tight and his body rigid. With a derisive snort, he turned his face toward the wall and closed his eyes. Jim heard the door open. Without looking, he growled, "I told you to get lost!" 

"Jim?" 

Jim's eyes flew open and his head swiveled in the direction of the deep voice. He had the grace to blush. "Simon... Sorry. I was..." Clamping his mouth closed, he sighed deeply. 

"I saw Blair in the hall. He flew by me without a word. What did you do to him?" Simon demanded, glaring down. 

Jim would have clenched his hands into fists if the bandages would have allowed it. "Why is it something I had to have done? Can't a guy get a little peace and quiet without everybody bugging the shit out of him?"

Simon moved closer, his eyes narrowing. "What is wrong with you?" 

"Nothing!" Jim shouted, again turning his face away from his visitor, irritated that he couldn't run from the room and hide from all of this. 

"Jim, this isn't like you." When Jim didn't respond, Simon said softly, "It's okay to admit you're scared. Blair isn't your father, and neither am I. We understand how rough this is for you." 

Jim turned his head quickly toward Simon. "I'm not scared!" 

Simon nodded. "Right," he drawled. "The great and powerful Ellison is not scared. I'll make a note." 

Jim rolled his eyes. "Look at me! I can't even take a piss without somebody cleaning my dick for me!" 

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so that's it. Your ego won't let you ask for help. Now I get it. Smart move, Jim. Very smart." 

Jim glared. "You have no idea-" 

"Of course not. Only you have ever had to have help wiping his butt. Nobody else in the history of the world has had to ask their friends or family or lovers to give them a hand." 

"Lovers? What's that supposed to mean?" Jim demanded. 

Simon shrugged. "You know, Jim, I have to say, I always thought you were a smart man. Sure, you have a stubborn streak as wide as the Mississippi, but you've always done right by me. I've admired you since the day I met you." With a deep chuckle, Simon shook his head. "That's not really true. I admired you once Jack Pendergast whipped you into shape. You were an arrogant asshole for a while there." 

Jim almost smiled, remembering his attitude when Simon first came into the department. He remembered the cocky attitude, the gum chewing, the tennis ball, and that earring in the shape of a skull and crossbones that he'd worn just to bug Simon. 

"I'm not stubborn," Jim whined. 

Simon remained silent, but his eyes danced with amusement. Jim glared. Simon pulled up a chair and sank into it, his eyes still locked onto Jim's, and his lips still sealed. Jim wiggled. Then he sighed, before he finally ground out, "What?" 

Simon's eyes widened and his hands flew out. "Don't ask me. I'm only your friend." 

"You are an asshole." 

Simon shrugged, making Jim sigh yet again. "I can't ask him." Nothing from his guest.   
"Oh, for God's sake! What do you expect me to do?" he cried in exasperation "I have six weeks of this!" he added, holding up his hands. "I can't wash myself. I can't feed myself. I can't use the can without company! At least at the care center, it's -- strangers. Not my -- Blair!" When Simon let out a long-suffering sigh, Jim added, "It's just... I'm so fucked." 

"Want some advice?" 

"No!" Jim let out a groan before he said, "Okay." 

"Give the kid a chance." 

"It's not that!" Jim raised a hand to rub his forehead, only to see the white bandages flash before his eyes. "Shit." 

"You want to spill it?" 

"Spill what?" Jim asked. A wave of lethargy passed through his body, and he was suddenly tired of just about everything. 

"Jim, I know you. You are not a coward." 

"But I'm scared," he finally admitted, staring down at the laces on Simon's brown shoes. 

"I know," Simon said softly. 

"Blair thought I was out of it, and I was, mostly. He was so sincere! Telling me how much he loved me, and to get well soon, and how much he wanted us to be together. He talked for hours! Made all these plans like we were somehow, you know. More than roommates." 

"That grosses you out?" 

"No!" Jim cast an irritated look at his friend. "You know I love Blair!" Simon raised an eyebrow before picking at a nail. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you? God, I hate this!" 

Simon grinned, shrugging. "I'm your captain, Jim, but more than that, I'm your friend. And Blair's also. I know what you two mean to each other." Leaning back, Simon's smile never faded when he continued. "You and Blair have something special. I know it's not easy for you, being a anal jerk and all, but he's the best thing to come down the pike." Simon pointed a finger. "You'd better think about this long and hard. It could be the make or break of the relationship." 

"You think Blair would leave me?" Jim asked softly. "If I don't let him help me?" 

"Leave you? No. But I don't think you and he will ever find out what it could have been if you don't open up to him. I don't think he'll give you his heart, for lack of a better word. You two will still be best buds, and work together, but I don't think Blair would be willing to move further into a permanent relationship with you if you don't let him see how much you can and do trust him." Simon let out a tired sigh. "And the idea that you'll be alone for the rest of your life... that makes me sad." 

Jim was silent for a long while before he slowly nodded. "It makes me feel like that also. And -- that doesn't feel very good," he finally admitted. "I hate feeling like this!" Chewing on his lip, he finally blurted out, "If we ever have any kind of a chance to be together, how can I expect him to care about me if he sees me so weak?"

Simon rose. "Excuse me? You were hurt saving a man's life! You think because you need help while you recover, you're showing weakness? God, Ellison, you are such an idiot!" He paced the small room before he turned and asked, "What do you want?" At the puzzled look, Simon sighed with exasperation and spoke as if Jim were five years old. "What do you want from a relationship with Blair? Geez, Jim, you are dense today. Do. You. Love. Blair?" When Jim started to answer, Simon held up a hand. "Don't tell me. You be honest with yourself. And with Sandburg. You make a decision and then you live with the consequences, for better or worse. That's good enough for me." 

Jim swallowed, dropping his chin to his chest. 

With a grunt, Simon walked toward the door. "Take it easy." 

Jim cleared his throat before he answered, "Okay, Simon. And... thanks." 

"Sure." Simon waved a large hand that said take care of it as he left. 

\-------------------------------------

"Jim, wake up. Jim!" Blair wrapped his hands around Jim's wrists, holding the flailing hands still. "Jim, please, wake up. It's just a dream." 

Jim blinked slowly before he sighed and licked his dry lips. "Sorry, Chief." 

"Hey, it's okay." He released Jim's wrists. "Want a glass of water?" 

"Yes, please." Jim scooted up to lean against the pillows. With another soft sigh, he wiped the back of his arm across his sweaty forehead. 

"Here you go." Blair held out the glass into which he had placed a straw. Jim took the glass from Blair, grasping it lightly with his almost-healed palms. He drank deeply before passing the glass back to his companion. 

"Thanks, Chief." 

"Sure." Blair fussed with the sheets before he finally asked, "Was it the same dream?" 

Jim nodded, his eyes finding Blair's. He saw his partner's concern and love reflected there, and he smiled. "Silly, isn't it? I mean, I know I didn't lose my hands, but... I can't stop dreaming that parts of me are missing." 

Blair's hand involuntarily reached out to touch Jim's bare shoulder. At the last second, he pulled back and clenched his hands together. "It's just your subconscious protesting the rough time you've had. You're going to be fine. I mean, look at your hands. They're almost healed. The skin grafts look great. A year from now nobody will even notice." 

"It's just that I don't think it has to do with body parts."

"What are you talking about?" 

Not at all sure what the hell he was talking about, Jim shrugged, glancing down at the pink slightly-puckered skin. "They're okay. Itch, though." 

"Want me to rub some cocoa butter on them?" 

Jim glanced up at Blair through sandy lashes. "That'd be nice. Thank." 

Blair smiled. "I'm happy to do it." With a bounce, Blair crossed over to Jim's dresser and returned with a jar. Opening the lid, he sniffed lightly. "I love the smell of this. It makes you smell like a giant Hershey bar." 

Jim laughed, sighing contentedly when Blair took his hand, palm up, and started to gently massage in the soft cream. "Oh, man..." he whispered, his eyes drifting close. 

"Let your senses enjoy the sensations. Feel the cream soaking in. Smell the aroma. Let it comfort you while it heals," Blair murmured soothingly. "While it chases away that nasty itching." 

"Feels nice," Jim muttered, allowing his senses to drift along, pleasure suffusing them deeply. "I like when you touch me." He practically purred his contentment. 

Blair held his breath, afraid if he moved too quickly, or breathed too deeply, or laughed too loudly, that the magical moment would disappear. Finally, he very slowly released the breath he'd been holding and after carefully working in the cream, he finished with Jim's left hand. Climbing onto the bed, he sat cross-legged on Jim's right, and began to give this hand the same treatment as the other. He closed his eyes also, and let his fingers guide him. He pictured himself rubbing Jim's hand, actually seeing the skin heal under his touch. He saw the scarring from the burns flare with brightness before they faded away. Healthy, pink flesh replaced the previously burned places. He smiled while happiness raced through his body. 

Enjoying the fantasy, he then allowed his mind to wander into more interesting territory. He saw himself reaching for Jim, his hand snaking through the slit in his lover's boxers. His erection, full and firm, pushed against the thin cotton, begging for his touch. His cocoa butter-covered hand caressed Jim's hardness, milking clear drops of pre-cum to the tip where the crystal fluid slowly gathered before slipping down the rounded flesh and onto his hand. The slick cream made his hand's journey easy while the aroma of the butter filled the air. 

In his mind's eye, Jim lay back, his eyes closed, his arms throws out on the sheets, palms up, and his legs spread wide. The set of his body begged for Blair's touch. Blair could see the healed skin of Jim's hands, shiny with the cream, as they lay against the blue cotton of the sheets. The fingers twitch as he pleasured his lover's body. Jim's hips jerked minutely while a sheen of sweat coated his forehead. When a bead gathered between his eyes, Blair leaned over to lick the warm liquid before it slipped down Jim's nose. Moving even closer, Blair's eyes focused on the pink flesh of his lover's mouth. Open and panting small, short breaths mixed with tiny moans of pleasure, Blair pressed his mouth against the beckoning lips. His hand continued its sensual rhythm while he tasted his lover's flavor. 

With a deep shudder down his entire body, Jim's mouth fell open in invitation. Blair cautiously slipped inside, his tongue exploring lightly. Jim whimpered in the back of his throat, his lips closing around Blair's tongue. His head rose from the pillow as he tried to move closer, to deepen the contact, as his lips gently sucked while the tip of his tongue touched Blair's. Blair snaked his free arm around Jim's neck, cradling the corded flesh in the crook of his arm. Jim's mouth fell away as he cried out, pushing upward into Blair's fist. While he came, Blair again covered Jim's mouth with his, ardently kissing his lover and drinking in Jim's moans of pleasure as he writhed under Blair's gentle but firm caress. 

Blair moved his mouth away and licked his own lips. "It's just a dream. It's just a dream," he chanted, forcing his eyes to open. He started when he realized that he was actually holding Jim close. His hand was wrapped around Jim's softening penis. Warm, white fluid coated his hand. Blair's gaze flicked to Jim's face. His eyes were closed, his head listing sideways against Blair's chest. Blair's sticky hand moved away from Jim's spent organ. "Oh, God," he whispered. "I... Jim?" 

A soft snuffling sound escaped from Jim's lips. His arms snaked around Blair's waist and he gave a deep sigh. Not thinking, Blair pressed his hand to Jim's face, smearing the semen on his cheek. Jim's breathing even out quickly; he fell into a deep sleep. 

Shocked at his actions, Blair carefully extricated himself from Jim's grasp. He moved from the bed and raced down the stairs in a daze. Grabbing a clean wash cloth from under the sink, he ran the water until it was hot. Wetting the cloth, he wrapped it in a clean towel to keep it warm before returning to Jim's bed. Carefully, he washed his partner, removing all traces of his coming. Jim sighed and muttered several times, but never woke, much to Blair's relief. Wiping some stray come from one of Jim's arms, Blair held up the large hand, carefully inspecting the damages flesh. He bit his lip and shook his head when he lay the hand gently down on the mattress. Clean up finished, he returned to the first floor where he tossed the wash cloth into the hamper, hung the towel and then walked out into the living room to drop onto the sofa. 

"Oh, my God. I am so fucked," Blair muttered aloud. "That was the most wonderful experience of my life, and I'm so fucked. I felt Jim's desire. I know I did! Or was it my own desire overshadowing my common sense? Jim will kill me. Jim will hate me. Jim will..." He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. "What the hell happened? I remember closing my eyes. I remember seeing Jim's hands heal before my eyes! But that didn't happen. He still has the scars, but the sex... That did happen. I am so fucked," he repeated. "Not to mention I took advantage to Jim, who trusts me. What is wrong with me?" Blair threw his head back and covered his face with his hands. Even though he'd washed his hands, the residual scent of cocoa butter wafted to his nose. He cupped the right hand against his nose. He remembered fisting Jim's penis with that hand; with that smell. His body shuddered and the blood raced to his groin. Even as his body responded to the fragrance, something he now associated with Jim, and sex, and love, he dug his fingers into his eyes. "No, no, no!" 

"Chief?" 

Blair's eyes flew open. Jim knelt on the floor between his outspread legs, a contented smile on his face and the jar of cocoa butter in his hand. 

"Jim!" Blair squeaked, his voice breaking. "What...? I'm sorry!" he cried, seeing the jar. "I shouldn't have done that! I'm so sor-"

"I'm not," Jim interrupted, twisting the lid from the jar and dipping two fingers into the creamy concoction. He held up the fingers, the yellow glob clinging to his skin. "Parts are missing, Chief." He set the jar down and lightly rubbed his hands together, smearing the stuff around. "Parts are missing," he repeated. 

"What? Jim, are you awake? What parts? What's missing?" 

Jim smiled, his hands moving forward. Blair watched the hands as if in a dream. The hands tugged down Blair's boxers, leaving greasy globs on the waistband. The elastic was dragged down and released, where it rucked up under Blair's balls, exposing them fully. Before Blair could say another word, one of Jim's hands cupped the warm sac while the other engulfed his penis. 

"Jim!" Blair cried, his body responding to the slick, warm touch. His erection, which had started to fade when Jim had appeared before him, now returned in record time. The flesh swelled while his lover's slippery hand danced along its length. "Jim!" Blair cried again as the hand holding his testicles rolled and gently tugged on them while a long, slick finger somehow found its way to the especially sensitive skin right behind his balls. Blair cried aloud, "Ahhh! Oh, my God!" He bit his lip, his eyes wide, his gaze latched onto Jim's, when Jim gave him a sweet smile, leaned down and licked the head of his penis. With a straggled cry, Blair came all over himself and Jim's hand. While his hips bucked, Jim quickly changed hands. The hand previously caressing his balls now milked his dick while the semen-covered hand found its way to Jim's mouth. With an extremely satisfied smile, Jim slowly and deliberately licked his hand while his gaze held his lover's. Blair watched, dumbfounded, while Jim cleaned himself thoroughly before he sat back on his heels and licked his lips. 

Giving Blair a very satisfied smile, he finally said, "I'm not missing parts any longer, Blair." 

The way Jim said his name made Blair shiver. He nodded dumbly, his powers of coherent speech long gone. "Okay," he managed to whisper. 

Jim rose gracefully and smiled. "Come to bed." 

Blair blinked. He could do nothing but acquiesce. Hell, he had wanted this since forever. He answered the only way he could. He repeated, "Okay." 

When Blair continued to sit in a stupor, Jim laughed deeply, turned toward the stairs, and said over his shoulder in a teasing tone, "Now, Chief."

Blair followed slowly, his mind still reeling from the last hour's events. "J-jim?" 

Jim paused and looked lovingly at Blair. "Yes, Chief?" he asked with an amused grin. 

"Are...? Do we...? Should we... need to talk about... whatever... this?" he asked, knowing he wasn't making a damned bit of sense. 

Jim grinned. "Nope. We'll be much too busy to talk. At least for a while. Later, we'll talk if you like." 

Again, Blair's eyes widened. Jim was flirting. Jim was teasing. Jim was going to... To him! "Oh, God," Blair whispered, "thank you!" and raced up the stairs behind his lover. 

\-----------------------------------

The instant Jim woke, memories of the night before flooded his mind. With a grin, he turned toward his sleeping companion. Propping his head on his hand, he watched Blair sleep for a few minutes before his hand, seemingly of its own accord, snaked out to finger a strand of hair that lay trailing down the edge of the pillow. Bringing the strand up to his nose, he sniffed. The scent of cocoa butter tickled his nasal passages. His body gave a happy little dance, remembering what had happened between them, and he enjoyed the memories for many minutes until the much-loved voice broke into his daydream. 

"Jim, I'm not a tale, beautiful redhead." 

"What?" Jim muttered, dropping the hair and focusing on his partner's face. Blair's gaze found Jim's. He was way too serious for Jim's taste. He'd expected an exuberent Blair, joyful after their night of lovemaking. "What's wrong?" Jim demanded, his hackles rising. "What the hell are you talking about? Redhead?" 

Blair covered his face with his hands. "God, I never seem to get anything right!" he said through his fingers. 

"Sandburg, what the fuck is going on?" Jim rose quickly and crossed his arms. "Don't tell me you regret what happened! I can't handle that right now!" 

Blair vehemently shook his head. "No! No, Jim, not at all." He rose and Jim knew he was feeling vulnerable naked because he fumbled around until he found a discarded pair of boxers and practically jumped into them. If Jim hadn't been so worried about Blair's seemingly unhappy reaction to their night together, he would have chuckled at his disheveled lover. The boxers were obviously his, not Blairs. The waistband was too big and their downward slip was stopped only by Blair's penis. He seemed oblivious to them, though, because he crossed his arms also and cried, "I don't regret one second, but you... If you don't regret anything right now, you will after you think about it!" 

Jim bristled at Blair's hostile voice. "You have no right to tell me what I will or won't regret!" 

Blair huffed out an irritated breath before he said in a bad imitation of his partner, throwing Jim's own words back at him, _"Sandburg, being bonded to a beautiful redhead might be okay, but you're not exactly my idea of a soul mate."_ Eyes wide, Blair stared directly into Jim's. "So there." 

He actually pouted, and it looked downright sexy, Jim realized, much to his chagrin. He needed to focus on Blair's words, not on how damned desirable he looked. And just what the hell was going on with him anyway? He had obviously fallen in love with Blair over the past five or six weeks while Blair helped him handle his every need. And once he'd realized he loved the schmuck, there was no turning back for Jim. Decision made, he forged ahead, determined to convince Blair of his genuine affection and his commitment to him. 

"Oh, good God, Chief! Yeah, I said that! I've changed my mind!" Jim stalked over to the dresser and yanked open a drawer. 

"You've changed your mind. What? Flipped some switch in your body, and suddenly I'm good enough for you?" 

Jim moved quickly. He was in front of Blair and pressing a finger directly into the center of his chest while Jim's hand held his bicep. "Listen to me very carefully because I'm only going to say this once. Are you listening?" 

Blair nodded, tugging on his arm to escape. Jim's grip tightened just slightly, so Blair sighed and stopped squirming. 

"You are my soul mate, Blair. I'm yours. We have a -- link, bond, whatever you want to call it, and yes, I feel it. I let myself start to feel it a while ago, and I realized you were right. We are connected. We are linked, bonded, whatever! I admit I didn't want to -- admit it before! But last night... I felt it last night when you touched me, and I felt it even more when I touched you." When Blair's mouth opened, Jim waved a finger in front of his face. "Quiet! I'm talking here." Blair nodded silently, his gaze never leaving Jim's face. His eyes held Jim's, and Jim could almost see the silent prayers that Blair was sending heavenward. Prayers that Jim meant what he said about them; that Jim wanted Blair in his life, as his Guide, as his partner, and as his soulmate. Determined to allay Blair's every fear, he forged ahead. 

"What you've done for me the past weeks have been beyond the bounds of friendship. Way beyond. You've been -- great. Never once did you complain about me being a total jerk, something I was more often than not. Although the long-suffering glances and exasperated sighs conveyed your meaning nice and clear," Jim added with a rueful grin. "So... This is the way it's going to be from now on. You and me, Chief. Here," Jim waved a hand toward the bed they had just occupied together, "and out there," he then finished, waving toward the ceiling, indicating the outside world in general. "You were right and I was wrong. I was missing -- parts and now I'm not. Understand? You're my parts. Together we're a whole and I like it." Again, Blair nodded, his mood seeming to lighten and his face taking on a pleased appearance. The way the cloud lifted from Blair's face made Jim actually chuckle. It was a tangible change, happening right before his eyes. And besides, he'd never seen Blair quite so speechless before, unless he counted last night when he knelt between his lover's legs and touched him for the first time. "Now if you'd like to say something, go ahead." Jim smiled reassuringly, patting Blair's still too-white cheeks. 

Blair took in a deep breath before he released it. His eyes blinked slowly and he swallowed noisily. Jim waited patiently. He was rewarded for his patience in a few moments when Blair moved closer, clamped his hands on either side of Jim's face and dragged him down for an ardent kiss. Jim's arms moved to embrace his lover, his hands cupping the firm backside. Blair gave a little hop, lifing his legs from the floor. Jim used his strong arms to raise Blair up so that he could wrap his legs around Jim's waist. Lips fused together, Jim lumbered over to the bed and tumbled them onto the mattress. Blair let out a little grunt but never lost his hold, his mouth covering Jim's, his tongue delving in, making Jim hot and aroused and needy. Returning Blair's kiss with equal passion, each man vied for dominance. 

The men rolled over several times, switching places, each on top for a few moments of fevered groping and kissing only to change places again, until Blair put his entire body weight behind a hard shove, flipping Jim onto his back. He planted his backside on Jim's hips and pressed his hands against the strong shoulders. Panting heavily, he leaned down and huskily ground out, "I've waited for you for a long time, Ellison. God, but I do love you." 

Jim smiled up into his lover's smoky blue eyes, enjoying the look of Blair aroused and demanding. His fingers cared through the tangled hair, brushing away the wild strands that clung to Blair's face. "Me, too. Know that I do love you. Sorry it took me so long, Chief." 

"No problem. I wasn't going anywhere." Blair grinned. 

Jim returned Blair's happy smile with one of his own. With his eyes riveted on Blair's face, his hand touched Blair's erection, making his gasp. "So, you going to do something with that?" Jim asked innocently, his tone drawing out the word "something". 

"Like what?" Blair looked stunned, and Jim could see the wheels whirling in his brain as he tried to grasp the very idea that Jim was asking -- what he was asking. 

"Geez, Blair, do I have to show you everything?" Jim asked, sighing theatrically. "You'd think that a smart guy like you would know what to do. Especially since you're "The Guide"," he added, making quotation marks in the air. "So guide, will you? My balls are turning blue here." 

"You want me to... You're asking me to..." 

"I didn't know you were shy, Chief. It's really pretty cute." 

Blair gave him an exasperated look and stuck out his tongue. 

Jim chuckled. "Do you want me to beg?" 

"No!" Blair grinned. "Well, maybe a little." 

Jim laughed, jiggling the bed before his face became serious. "Blair?" 

"Yeah?"

"Make love to me." 

"Oh, man. Jim, I'd be happy to." 

\---------------------------------


End file.
